


A Cold Night, A Numb Heart

by TheRev28



Category: Love Live! School Idol Festival ALL STARS (Video Game), Love Live! School Idol Project, ラブライブ! 虹ヶ咲学園スクールアイドル同好会 | Love Live! Nijigasaki Gakuen School Idol Doukoukai (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, based on Setsuna's bond story route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27410884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRev28/pseuds/TheRev28
Summary: Setsuna felt numb, gripped by a mental overstimulation to the point where it felt like nothing at all. It was all her fault.Ayumu just hoped she could help.
Relationships: Uehara Ayumu/Yuuki Setsuna
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	A Cold Night, A Numb Heart

The night air felt cold against Nana's skin, and each new breeze carried with it a fresh round of goosebumps as she sat alone on the park bench. She hadn’t changed out of her stage outfit, and without the adrenaline of the performance, it did very little to combat the chill of an autumn evening. In all honesty, the cold felt good. It gave her mind something to focus on. It didn’t last, though. She took a deep breath and relished in the sting in her lungs. She held it, hoping the sting would calm her thoughts. It only reminded her of the panic that gripped her chest as—

Nana coughed and had to take a moment to catch her breath again. She tilted her head back to stare at the sky and wished her mind could be quiet, just this once. Her thoughts continued to race, though, as they jumped around wildly, replaying the day’s events in every possible manner. It was numbing, in an odd way. It was mental overstimulation to the point where it felt like nothing at all. 

The stars in the sky looked like the sea of King Lights in the crowd, each one a person—a _fan_ —she had let down. And there, front and center, shone the moon, commanding her attention just as _they_ had done so while she was on stage. The moon was just as unreadable as the expression on their faces.

Her failure continued to replay in her mind. She saw it at every possible speed, from every possible angle. Every time, it felt like she could do something different—prevent what she knew was coming—but every time, the results remained the same. 

Somewhere along the edges of her awareness, Nana heard footsteps getting closer. She lowered her gaze from the uncaring night sky and stared out towards the horizon instead. A figure crouched in front of her, and she distantly realized it was Ayumu. Even though her girlfriend occupied most of her field of vision, she barely saw her. Her entire being focused on replaying the events of the show, trying to pinpoint what had happened, what had gone wrong—what _she_ had _done_ wrong.

“Setsuna?” Ayumu’s voice filtered in through the memories, sounding too far away.

_Please don’t call me that. Please don’t call me that. Not now. Not after what happened. I can’t be that person right now. Maybe I can’t be that person ever again._

“Setsu?” It felt like a punch to the gut. The kindness, the compassion in her voice….

_Don’t. Don’t say it. Please don’t say the words I want to hear, just not from you._

“Nana?”

Her name cut through the numbing fog of restless thoughts, and Nana clung to it, following the path it had cleared to reach her back to the real world. She raised her head and actually looked at Ayumu for the first time since she’d arrived. Ayumu’s eyes were filled with concern, but she had a soft, gentile smile on her face. She held her arms out, offering an unspoken invitation, and Nana gladly accepted. 

The hug was so warm, and Nana realized just how cold she had been. As she sunk deeper and deeper into Ayumu’s embrace, she buried her face in the crook of her girlfriend’s neck. Ayumu filled her senses, and it gave Nana’s brain an anchor point to latch onto. Her thoughts slowed, the numbness faded, and the mental respite allowed her the chance to actually process the swirling emotions inside herself.

Nana let herself cry.

She cried for what had happened. She cried for what _hadn’t_ happened. She cried for her past self whom she had disappointed, and she cried for her future self whom she had let down.

Throughout it all, Ayumu held her tightly and let her cry. 

“How could… this happen?” Nana said between sobs. “When I’m on stage, I’m supposed to be Setsuna Yuki. I’m supposed to let my passion shine for everyone to see. I _needed_ to make my parents see it. If Setsuna… if _I_ can’t do that… I might as well go on stage as Nana Nakagawa, assuming I can ever go on stage again.”

“And what’s so bad about that?” Ayumu said, her voice soft. “Setsuna Yuki is a _part_ of Nana Nakagawa—a part of _you_ . She’s the part that loves without shame or hesitation. The part of you who wants others to feel that love. You may call that part ‘Setsuna Yuki,’ but she’s still _you_ , Nana.” 

As Ayumu spoke, she loosened the hug and began doing something with Nana’s hair. Nana, meanwhile, kept her face buried in Ayumu’s shoulder and still clung to her girlfriend.

“There are parts of Nana in Setsuna, too, you know,” Ayumu continued, her hands still moving. “Her incredible work ethic, her attention to detail….” She trailed off, and her hands stopped moving. Gently, she got Nana to break the hug and pulled back just a little—just enough to take her phone out and open the front facing camera. Ayumu showed it to Nana, using it like a mirror to show her girlfriend what she’d been doing.

Nana stared at the image of herself on the phone. Ayumu had braided her hair into her usual “Nana” style, but she still wore “Setsuna’s” idol outfit. 

“See? Would it really be so strange for Nana to take the stage?”

It looked… odd. Nana tried so hard to keep Setsuna separate, hidden, but… maybe that had been part of the problem. Maybe… maybe if she let her parents see Setsuna more often… maybe if she let Nana take the stage… maybe she could still make them understand. Because Nana _was_ Setsuna, and Setsuna was Nana. 

Setsuna looked past the phone at Ayumu herself. Tears still streaking her face, she smiled.

“Thank you, Pomu.”

**Author's Note:**

> I never promised all my SetsuAyu content would he happy. (Don't worry, the next one will be.) I wanted to explore a canon divergence where Setsuna's live show for her parents doesn't end in success. What would that do to her? How would she handle it? How could someone help her recover from it? 
> 
> I had fun writing it. I enjoyed exploring a more series side to their relationship.


End file.
